Bellum, Bellator, and Bellatrix
by AwePossessedPen
Summary: Was always his Warrior until day of falling. So blindly devoted to her master, she was his servant, slave, apprentice. She was always his.
1. Chapter 1

My first fanfiction. Please have patience with me.

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its contents.

"People are held back by fear, not by limitations.  
- Janis Walker

Chapter 1: Somnia - Dreams

The fire crackled and distantly reflected against the young girl's face as she became more and more engrossed in her book. She gently rested her arms against the handles of the luxurious chair impeccably imitating the image of that of a queen. Young Bellatrix Black never failed to look immaculate. Dominance is something that came naturally to all Blacks. The matriach of the family can often scold her children for not being of such, and the not so persuading, blunt reason will always be _Those with magic are more superior to those who are not_. Therefore the superiors must always attain perfection and validate their position. _Tourjous pur_ might as well have been carved on the threshold. Though Bellatrix's control and influence at such a young age had people gaping in disbelief. Yes, the Blacks were a family who influenced others and not to be influenced by anyone else. More so their blood purity influenced a great part of their lives as every pureblood family had. Her mother had said _Example is the main thing in influence. _And Bellatrix was often scolded for not being the perfect example for her sisters. One can say this is too much to expect from one who is only six years of age, but wealth and power can override all logic and reason.

Druella Black came to usher her children to their rooms and gently picked up Andromeda, the younger girl's honey brown hair brushing against her mother's cheek as she turned her gaze back to the porcelain doll which was now left ungaurded on the floor. Druella went to take her eldest daughter from the armchair whispering to her "Come now, child. We have an important visitor and I do not want you to disturb him."

But Bellatrix wasn't so quick to obey. Instead she ran to the door excitedly, intent on seeing who this 'important visitor' is. By the door stood her father, Cygnus Black, who was speaking to a tall figure. " ... yes Master Riddle, it is almost finished. But please enter for now." Her father was saying gesturing to the inside of their home. Bellatrix was confused as to why he would call the man 'Master Riddle'. Yet again she realized that she had heard a lot about this 'Master Riddle'. Her father talked about him much and his abdundant knowledge of the Dark Arts, and much to Bellatrix's dismay, he would then excuse any further questions. This arose Bellatrix's curiousity as she mustered the courage to speak to their visitor.

The man entered gracefully uncovering the hood of his cloak. His good-looking features were marred into a frown as he examined their home.

Master Riddle went to sit down on the chair previously occupied by Bellatrix. She nervously walked up to the newcomer and bowed politely.

"Good evening Master Riddle." She said calling him by what her father had said earlier.

He turned his gaze abruptly down to the young girl before him and smirked.

"Good evening... Bellatrix, I presume?"

She stood straighter and examined the wizard before her.

"Yes, Master Riddle." She said craning her neck to be able to see him.

He bent down and gently scooped the girl onto his lap.

"Your father told me much about you Bellatrix."

"I know," she stated calmly.

Riddle laughed at the eery yet arrogant confidence in the girl's tone.

"Bellatrix." He hummed thoughtfully, "Do you know what your name means?"

She nodded enthusiastically, "Yes Master Riddle. It means Maiden Warrior." She said proudly. Seeing his perplexed expression, she offered "Mother told me."

Master Riddle looked pleased at the young girl's understanding as he regarded her for a minute or so."You want to be a Warrior." He analyzed. Stating rather than questioning.

"Every intention too," she added.

'But that's silly," she started again, disgruntlement overcoming her rather soft tone. "Father said don't count on hopes until you have weighed your chances."

Riddle shook his head furiously, baffled at her father's discouragement. "But why would that be? When young girls with dreams become women of vision."

Bellatrix thought about this for a moment. Then, feeling empowered, she asked, "So one day my intentions will become of something?"

Grinning, Riddle said, "More than something." A malicious glint in his eyes.

They sat in silence for a minute or so until Riddle's gaze found the book Bellatrix had been formerly reading. Realizing what he was looking at, the young girl hastily got of the wizard's lap, picked up the book, and handed it to him. Then she seated herself on the arm of the chair as Riddle skimmed the book.

"I was just on the section about goblins wanting our magic," she explained.

Riddle, smirking at the girl's use of the word 'our' countered, "Do you think they should have the right of magic?"

"Not really," she said truthfully, her eyes lighting up with a certain fire. Pride, Riddle concluded as she began speaking with much assurance. "Goblins are like muggles. Selfish and pathetic. Goblins want to use magic for their own purposes where as muggles just want magic to solve their problems."

Riddle, mildly surprised at the girl's extensive knowledge, added, "Yes dearest. They also envy our magic. Envious that were are more superior." His tone was calm and carried a hint of repugnance but Bellatrix thought she saw something shift in his eyes. Something close to... sadness.

Her thoughts were disrupted as Riddle shifted in his seat to be able to place the book on the stool, west of the fireplace.

Not long after did the young girl's roaming eyes find the medallion near the older man's clavicle. It was resplendent with its intricate silver and green, intertwining patterns that laced delicately among the edges. Sliver and green, she mused. She had always loved those colors. Perfectly alluring and elegantly enhanced each other. Her curiosity overcomes her politeness as her forefinger traced the outline of the awe-spiring serpentine S in the center. She tried to recall where she had seen an S like that before and identified it as the same S near the tapestry in the backroom of the Black home.

"You like it, don't you?" Riddle's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"It's beautiful." Bellatrix admitted.

"Do you know what it is for?" He tested.

She thought about this for a moment. Then the answer unfolded in front of her. Of course, she thought, mentally scolding herself for her stupidity. "It's for Slytherin, Master Riddle. As in Salazar Slytherin." she explained. "He was one of the Hogwart's founders and the other three were..." she started listing them on her fingers. "Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and..." Her brow creased in thought, "Godric Gryffindor."

Riddle chuckled at the revulsion in the girl's tone when speaking of the latter.

"But Salazar Slytherin is the best of the four." She finished with a casual shrug as though it was the most straightforward thing in the world.

"Yes, one cannot deny that of my noble ancestor." Riddle agreed audaciously.

Bellatrix's eyes widened in something between disbelief and astonishment. She, of course, did not miss the word 'ancestor'. Her mother spoke much of the Black ancestry but never did she mention being the relative of someone as significant as Salazar Slytherin.

"So you're related to him." concluded a very exhilarated Bellatrix.

Riddle smiled. Not smirked or mockingly grinned, but smiled. A true genuine, sincere smile. He knew this girl would grow up to be more than is thought of, one day. As it may be, she might even get her wish and become a warrior. He, Tom Marvalo Riddle, will make sure of it.

With a lazy flick of his wand, he conjured a small medallion just like his own with the only difference of having the word, or rather name: Slytherin, completely spelled out.

He handed it to his soon-to-be warrior. And smiled once more as she gaped at it with awe.

Yawning, Bellatrix hastily got off Riddle's lap. She bowed courteously to him, her dark, messy locks of hair bouncing about her face as she did so.

"Good night Master Riddle. It is a pleasure to have your presence." Bellatrix recited from what her mother had told her to be polite.

The young girl scurried back to her room with the presuming knowledge of a long night's rest.

Riddle looked fixedly at the retreating figure of the young girl until only a faint outline was left of their previous reminscence. He indulged in a private smile as he retained what he had previously promised himself, Bellatrix had potential and he would help her find it. He just knew he would find materiality in this girl one day. He had never seen someone so young with so much ability to have greatness. Greatness. The word reciprocated itself recurrently in his mind. Yes, Bellatrix Black would acquire greatness, prominence, chivalry even. She would become a warrior. Though not a Seer, he just knew that somehow this will all twist in one aspect and come back to him. He was proud. And this pride was not smug or arrogant, no, it was true and sincere. He laughed heartily as a new yet ludicrous thought arose. He dileberatly propeled it back. _As proud as a father_, was the thought.

Reviews are unnecessary, though adored. I love to know the feedback of my readers whether positive or negative. Criticism always welcome.

Chapter 2 shall be posted soon.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its contents.

-  
"May you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true. May you always see the truth and the cruelness of the world surrounding you. May you always be upright, stay courageous and strong. May you stay with who wants you, that is where you belong."  
-Laurie Anne Hull

Chapter 2 : Domus-Home

Life was retained at Platform 9 and 3/4 as students boarded the scarlet steam engine. Parents chided, children chattered, and trunks were loaded. The commotion seemed unending but Bellatrix Black found that she quite liked it. Bellatrix: The girl with coal-black hair and a frown permanently in place, could be found being scolded by the Black family matriarch. Her owl, Leera, was pecking fiercely at her cage as though attempting to escape. Bellatrix held a brutal grip on the cage as well as her suitcase as her mother ranted on and about what she shall and shan't do at Hogwarts. _A speech well rehearsed_, Bellatrix thought bitterly.

"...Understand?" Druella Black finished.

"Yes, mother," Bellatrix said through gritted teeth.

Nacrissa whined. The 7 year-old was tugging frantically on the sleeve of her mother's gold-laced robes, blond hair swaying about.

"Mother, let's get going," she was saying, eyeing a group of students with distaste.

"Patience Nacrissa," her mother snapped. "That is it Bellatrix, go now. And don't bother writing, I don't have time to listen to childish complaints. Just tell me of the House you were placed in at holiday break."

"Yes, mother," Bellatrix all but groaned.

"Very well, goodbye then. And stay clear of the mudbloods." The last part Druella hissed, leering at her daughter. She took her daughter into a brief embrace and gestured for her youngest daughter to do the same. Nacrissa quickly hugged her sister and Bellatrix whispered "I'll miss you Cissy," before breaking the embrace.

Her mother gripped the sleeve of her still blossoming, youngest daughter before vanishing with an ear-splitting pop and Bellatrix was left waving at nothingness. She sighed mournfully before squeezing herself between the immense crowd fearing she might get lost. After almost five minutes of jamming her way through hordes of people, she at last found the scarlet steam engine. Towing her trunk and the screeching owl along with her, she climbed onto the train.

She promptly began searching for a compartment that had people she knew or any decent people really. Decent: As long as they were pure blood she honestly did not care who they were. After a few minutes of searching she made her way to an open compartment. Peering into it, she spotted a familiar face, she entered hastily. Scurrying? In which you have may thought. No, Bellatrix did not scurry. She was a prominent pure blood. and a young woman not to mention. Nose in the air she made her way next to a girl with glossy, dark hair, so unlike her own messy curls. The girl was fiddling with the hem of her sleeve not once acknowledging the presence of another person.

"Hello Lysandra." Bellatrix greeted.

The girl looked up, glimmering blue eyes finally comprehending a common face.

"Hello," she responded, tone, one of cold indifference.

Bellatrix scowled angrily at her, though it was unseen by the girl for she was now VERY fascinated by her nails.

Bellatrix folded her arms and slumped back in her seat. She should have known that Lysandra Yaxley would be like this. True, she was instinctively formal and cold-blooded, showing no interest in anything whatsoever. But ever since the, ah, INCIDENT at her mother's regular gatherings just a few weeks ago, Lysandra had been more distant and barely spoke to her. Though it was not even her fault that the idiot chose to wear a floor length dress twice her height which resulted into Bellatrix tumbling on the dress and spilling her juice all over her back. It was chaotic. Bellatrix indulged in a private smirk. _Chaotic_, yes, chaos was her speciality.

Bellatrix took the seat beside the window, and stared at the marvelous view. Trees wavering about, hills rolling by, and the scarlet sun dipping in the horizon. All done with a touch of autumn beautifully contrasting the naturally captivating green. Bellatrix adored the scenery this time of year. Her mother had told her that nature must be appreciated for what it is but with a hint of magic, it can be to the limits of perfection. Her mother. She sighed gravely. She would miss her family once at Hogwarts. Would miss Cissy and Andy, father and mother and MASTER RIDDLE. She will surely miss Master Riddle. He had become somewhat a fatherly figure to Bellatrix, with his regular visits to the Black home.

After their first meeting he made frequent visits to Bellatrix. Yes, he had come for Bellatrix. He would only exchange greetings with her father, sometimes talk about 'business' or such but other than that he would spend the majority of the time with Bellatrix. He would tell her stories of his years at Hogwarts and about the Founders era, in which hardship was consistent among the magical community. Master Riddle would justify such things to hers with clarity she daren't ask from her parents, so she had come to develop a _Friendship_ or such with the older man. She often liked to think of it as a mentor-student relationship but strangely she preferred friendship.

In the five past years their friendship had somewhat expanded. During the times of her accidental magic he became to tell her ways of gaining control over her magic without a wand. She could now wave her hand about and produce a small fire. It wasn't as large or as warm in temperature as that of Master Riddle but it was enough to keep one warm. But now with her wand (walnut, dragon heartstring, 12 3/4) she can produce a larger fire and such.

Yes, she will and shall miss Master Riddle. He had told her to owl him after the Sorting and she took into obligation to do just that precisely after the Sorting. He had hinted (she was awfully observant) that he would be very disappointed if she is not sorted into Slytherin but at other times he said he had no doubt about in which she shall be sorted. Most would be fiddling nervously now if in the same situation but she still had a twenty-five percent chance to be in Slytherin. Oddly, it seemed like a fifty percent chance with the assurance of Master Riddle.

Their last encounters were brief. Master Riddle had been very occupied recently from what she had heard. His visits had become limited and, when asking why he did not attend her mother's previous gathering in the holidays, her father had said that Riddle's agenda was too full for such pointless gatherings. Looking back at their last encounters they really had not done much, though she had to confess she loved their encounters even if they were very limited. She devoured into another smile, for their was one encounter she had rather liked.

_It was a dreary afternoon in the Black home. The Black residents had just come back from a rather depressing funeral. The second cousin of Druella Black, Chaston Rosier, had been killed by an Auror for simply warding of, or rather using the Imperious Curse on, a muggle. Though the muggle deserved it upright, rarely anything can go unseen by the Ministry of Magic imbeciles. The new minister, the hated Drustan Ambrose (or at least by Black standards), had passed a new law privileging Aurors to kill whoever is found using one of the Unforgivables. Now all there is to be done is wait patiently until a new law is passed. But the Blacks were not one to wait, patience is a virtue only present in situations where there is enough time to wait._

_Now, a 10-year old Bellatrix sat in the living room caquetoire, sighing wistfully. She wanted so badly to be able to do something about the mudblood, bloodtraitor, and muggle filth contaminating their pure society, but, the horrific truth dawned upon her: She could do nothing. At least not now, she still hasn't even gotten her wand yet for the sake of Merlin. But when she did, she had made a mental note to start first by extracting those not worthy of magic from the magical district._

_The sudden clatter of water against glass revived Bellatrix from her gloomy thoughts. Bellatrix rushed to the window, intent on seeing the heavenly rain. And there it was, dripping gracefully and sliding rhythmically down the hard, damp glass. The girl opened the window and inserted her neck to be able to get the feel of the blissful rain. Beautifully oblivious to the world around it was the rain. Sometimes, feeling the cold was the only way she knew she was real. Might sound peculiar at first, but truthfully, how would you feel when it seemed as though you were nothing, of no significance to the world around you?_

_Water droplets splashed playfully on her face. She sticked out her tongue to be able to contain some dampness in her mouth, but hurriedly inserted it back in as she heard a soft 'pop' in the distance. She ran to the door recognizing the sound as that of Apparition. Bellatrix squinted through the keyhole and squealed in delight. She hastily opened the door and bowed._

_"Hello, Master Riddle." Straightening herself, she could not keep the grin that broke through at her visitor._

_He smirked, kneeled down, and planted a kiss on the palm of her hand. "Bellatrix." He acknowledged._

_Bellatrix giggled, something that is very unlike her usual fierce, steady personality. "Please do come in."_

_Riddle entered with rythimitic strides, robes swaying behind, and took the armchair opposite the caquetoire. Bellatrix stood politely never leaving her place by the door._

_She started playing with the collar of her robes suddenly feeling very awkward, she did not know why though. Master Riddle would come very often and she always was comfortable in his presence, but this seemed different from the other encounters._

_"Where is your mother, Bella?" Riddle's voice interrupted her thoughts. (He had come to shorten her name.)_

_"Upstairs. Probobaly throwing threats at the walls again. I guess in her case sadness leads to lunacy," she explained in the perfect matter-of-fact tone she took pride on. Hands clasped tight behind her back Bellatrix asked "Would you like some tea?"_

_He surveyed the girl for a moment before deciding upon "No, Bella. I will be only be her for a short while."_

_The awkward tension was released again and Bellatrix hinted a tone of finality in his voice. She did not want him to leave so she decided to say something. Anything. She sat down, opposite from him. _

_"This makes me unhappy, Master Riddle," she confessed. "So many people are dying just because of the bloodtraitors and their grudges against what is right. It is selfish." She risked a peer at the older man._

_"It makes me unhappy too," he admitted in a pained voice. He let out a frustrated sigh before saying "I promise you that I am doing everything in my capability in the current situations. The future is looking well, Bella. Just requires a bit of patience. And patience is not just a virtue, it is a necessity to victory."_

_Bellatrix nodded in understanding. Suddenly, she felt as though something was getting in her head. Her mind was being searched, memories flashed before her eyes and she let out a painful howl. She clutched her head as though that would reduce the pain. Images of when she was three and holding a baby Nacrissa, images of when she was five and pulling at Andy's hair. The last flash was of her first meeting with Riddle and the admiration of the man before her came rushing through. Then it all stopped._

_Beads of sweat prickled down her face and her hair was a tangled mess. From all the furious pulling when in the ...trance or whatever that was._

_"Here," Riddle conjured a glass of water and handed it to Bellatrix who drained it all in one gulp. With a careless flick of his wand hair was untangled and back to its original state._

_"What was that?" She asked robotically._

_"That Bella, was Legilimency," his tone was calm as though knowing nothing of the excruciating pain the young, girl had just felt._

_"L-legi- what?" She stammered_

_"Legilimency," he repeated " The procedure of entering ones mind and correctly interpreting their thoughts, memories, or, in the case of more skilled Legilemens, feelings."_

_Bellatrix gaped at him. Mouth opening and closing foolishly as though deciding on what she should say._

_"You saw exactly what I saw," she concluded. Her eyes were wide as saucers and she mentally decided whether she should be angry or awed. Awed, she went with._

_"Yes, and may I put it, it is very useful to know what one is thinking," he explained._

_She stared at him awe-struck._

_"But it's painful," she said sincerely. "To practice Legilimency, do you always have to bestow pure torture upon your component?'_

_"No. Not always. The victim may not always know of someone invading their brain, just this one time I wanted you to feel it, finally realize. Whether you know it or not, I take guilty pleasure in the tendecy of knowing your thoughts," he said with a smirk curling his lips._

_Bellatrix blushed furiously knowing what he was referring to. She inwardly groaned, this was a nightmare. She decided to approach another situation but thought better of it and said "So... my mind is like a book to you. Always open for you to read it."_

_"Somewhat true that is, but not precisely."_

_"Can you teach me?' She blurted out suddenly._

_"I'd wait until you were older, Bella. Legilimency is a very complex skill. It starts out with a wand, which you are not old enough to use." He pointed out and continued, "The indication is 'Legilimens', which is the practical base of the skill. Doing Legilimency wandlessly and nonverbally can and will take years to master. Very few wizards have ever achieved this. But above all that, you must learn Occlumency. Occlumency barriers shield you against the invasion of a Legilimens and from my wrath." His eyes twinkled with malice and must have clearly felt no shame in what he had done._

_"Alright then, teach me occlumency," she rather demanded._

_And Bellatrix spent the afternoon enjoying Riddle's company, all to herself. He taught her how to make out her expression to be completely blank, eyes emotionless, and pose innocent to be able to gain more control over the Legilimens powers, to limit them even. It all started that way, a little girl with hopes beyond her current capabilities._

The present day Bellatrix sat there in horror. New and dark thoughts arose. What if Master Riddle now takes interest in Cissy or Andy? What if he forgets her? What if Master Riddle won't visit her anymore because she is now too busy with Hogwarts? The horrible possibility of WHAT IF tormented Bellatrix. She tried to ease her features into relaxation but found that it was quite impossible. But then, her lips made out a smirk as she thought of what Lysandra might be thinking of her right now. Lysandra. Bellatrix furiously searched the compartment for Lysandra but did not find her. She gasped dramatically. She was so engrossed in her own thoughts that she did not even notice the train had stopped! And Lysandra had just left her there without warning. WAY TO GET BACK, Bellatrix thought darkly.

She hurriedly exited the compartment and frantically looked for any students also left behind. Looking through each compartment window, she found no one. She sighed exasperatedly , livid to the point of pulling her hair out. Or a specific Yaxleys'. She jogged, departing the train, and coming to face a puzzling set of paths. OK, WHICH WAY NOW? One route evidently was a shortcut to the Forbidden Forest. She had heard a lot about it from Riddle's many tales. He had said that path to the forest can be identified by a trail of small, black, pebbles almost. Spider droppings. She choked back a whimper as a new trail came to her attention. It was a silvery-liquid, gleaming in the drifting sun. It was very thick and the pathway was almost puddle-like. Unicorn Blood. She could not stop staring. A Unicorn was bleeding, evidently very injured. Probably DEAD by now. She knew she should not even care. It was just a stupid beast who had no use whatsoever. But she DID care. A lot. And whatever had hurt it would be of no mercy by her wand.

She suddenly had a very stupid idea that was so imprudent to the point it almost seemed thoughtful. She traced along the direction of the blood firm on the belief that no animal should die so horifficly. Walking through, Bellatrix inhaled the scent of composting leaves, crackling branches and decaying wood. Overhead, dim light filtered through the top branches as she walked further into the depth of the monstrous forest. Her hands were clammy with sweat and her face was damp with cold perspiration drying a little in the cold air signalling night. She finally reached the green meadow which hid in the folds of the forest, and breathed in the earthy smell of beginnings and endings. Of beginnings and endings. AND ENDINGS.


	3. Chapter 3

I do not own Harry Potter or any of its contents.

* * *

_"Suffering is a wonderful thing. It teaches you a virtue most cherished: Patience." _  
_ -Unknown_

* * *

Chapter 3 : Pain-Doleo

Heartbreaking yet breathtaking. Soul-wrenching and stomach-turning.

Bellatrix let the tears stream freely down her face, never bothering to wipe them. She just could not process the sight before her.

It was gruesome.

The innocent creäture bathed in the silvery liquid, no trace of life or proof of being. It's frosty-white fur soaked in its own blood. It's once beautiful dark eyes: hollow. It's heart was searing through, pearly almost. The skin opening to the core of the animal's life, was jagged. Plainly ripped open by another animal. Just gazing down at the victim, it seemed to Bellatrix that the predator seemed to do this just as 'one-last kill of the day'. For no real purpose, only to keep up its title as the 'monster' of the forest. HOW EASY IT IS TO PICK ON THE WEAK, Bellatrix thought sourly. None of the animal's parts were taken away or devoured by the blood-thirsty carnivore. If the animal was digested or actually eaten by the predator, it would have been understandable to Bellatrix. After all, that IS just the way it worked. But, no. The only reason being to satisfy itself as though in doubt of its place and needed to reclaim its role in the deadly forest.

And life goes on, which seems strange, and cruel when watching something die.

Looking down at the gentle beast, envy consumed Bellatrix. The fact that this animal could be able to take death so calmly and without protest overwhelmed her. If death was nothing to this animal, then why should death be something to everyone else? Why can't someone welcome death for what it is? The goal was never to live forever, it was to have made life worth living.

Bellatrix sighed sadly. No use to cry over spilled pumpkin juice, or blood in this case.

But it seemed Fate thought differently.

A dog-like growl awoke Bellatrix from the thoughts that brought upon her slumber (figuratively.)

Bellatrix scanned the forest for any sign of the deadly beast, wand at the ready. Her eyes finally landed on a silhouette hardly perceptible in the dying sun.

The animal strutted in an insolent manner, greatly offending Bellatrix. She smirked at the stupid creature, how could the animal even think it as a match for her? An _actual_ human being with real use.

The cunning eyes of the obsidian wolf surveyed her skeptically. The bruje' seemed to not trust her, which really was a matter to be shrugged off for now. He circled Bellatrix as though going to pounce any moment and claim one more victim.

Wand held high, Bellatrix was just going to voice any of the few defensive spells she knew, but she was curious about what the animal would do. After all, this IS the first time she has seen a wolf, or any wild animal for that matter. _Young ladies do not venture_, her mothers words echoed in her mind.

But for now, she did not care.

Bellatrix scrutinized the hessian, drinking in every detail hungrily.

As she observed she noticed that the tall frame of the animal was curved in a way so the muscles seemed to be linked or banded together. The tendon nearing to the pads of the he-beast was tilted, curving in a way that was not natural even for a wolf. _How odd,_ Bellatrix wondered. She turned her attention to the hinds of the animal and found the same with the left appendage.

The pelt or hide of the animal was hued with an ashen color as though burnt. That, Bellatrix could not find reason too. _Maybe fire,_ she thought. She had heard of magical fires but not a single wizard was known to survive them, much less an animal.

The ears of the hessian were twitching, probably hearing something loud. Bellatrix knew that creatures, especially such who can fit under the class of dogs, had better senses than humans so even the softest of sounds would be intense in their ears.

The lupe's nostrils were flared, most likely finding the scent of human foreign. The snout was rather intriguing itself, for it looked almost pig-like.

The wolf's ivories were deadly and intimidating. As sharp as knives they were, and were drizzling with an oh-so familiar silvery goo. But that was beyond Bellatrix now as another deadly feature caught her eyes.

It's wide, orange orbs mesmerized Bellatrix. She found herself falling in the eyes of the lupe. The hypnotizing gaze of the animal reached into her soul. She was lost, and did not want to be found. At least not now.

Pain. The distressing sensation it was. For, at the moment, pain is all that Bellatrix felt.

Pain. It was foreign to Bellatrix. The Black family heiress was so well-cared for, that she never even had a whiff of what pain is or feels like.

Before she knew what was happening, the incisors of the wolf had dug into her lower limb, nearing her ankle. Bellatrix wailed in agony as the animal removed its fangs just as painfully. She reached for her wand in desperation, but could not reach it in immense soreness. She hated herself more than she hated the wolf at the moment. How could she let herself be caught so off-guard?

When she finally grabbed hold of her wand, the animal was out of sight. She managed to force herself up but immediately fell back again. This was a nightmare. And she would miss The Sorting. The Sorting, she gasped. She had to persevere just this once. She at last urged herself to standing place but knelt back down. She risked a gaze at the wound and whimpered in horror. It was bleeding horribly. The wound was open from to spaces a great length apart. The blood was uncontrollably falling, tainting the ground beneath. Her pure blood was at its waste.

She finally was capable to get her legs to limp somewhat awkwardly. She trailed along the same path she came through, the path of the unicorn blood, her own blood allying that of the unicorn. She had to persevere, she just _had_ to. Even though she had another choice: wait pathetically and miss The Sorting until someone decides to come look for her or rather stumbles upon her. She could not do that. She also needed someone who could nurse her wound, which now was draining so much of her blood.

She wondered why the wolf would do that. She had not even raised her wand at the wretched thing, giving the demon not a reason to attack. Then realization dawned over Bellatrix, the wolf she saw was an _alpha_. The _regal_, the _leader_. How could she be so stupid as to not notice that? If she would've realized earlier she would have taken more precaution towards the animal. After all, it WAS in animal instincts to protect their group, or pack. _That's_ why the forest was Forbidden: the wolves supposedly claimed the territory as their own and did not want anyone trespassing.

But for now Bellatrix embraced the pain, it was better than denying it. Maybe if she endured it, she could defeat it.

She groaned and fell to her knees. Her left leg was so numb when she walked it seemed as though she was using only one leg. It felt really odd and painful for the wound was letting out the red liquid at an unnatural speed.

She leaned against the tall pine tree. She could do this. She had to. _Persevere, persevere, remind yourself you're nearly here,_ she chanted in her head.

One more go, that was it, just one more.

_Try, it never hurt to try, it never hurt to fail, and definitely never hurt to try again,_ were uncle Alphard's words.

Suddenly she had an idea. It was a very stupid and very un-Slytherin like idea, but it WAS still an idea. That _might_ actually work.

She remembered Master Riddle telling of a Hogwarts gamekeeper, a big oaf, were his precise words. Maybe he could help her.

Though another part of her was disagreeing. _You don't need help_, a voice in her mind said that sounded very strangely like that of her mother's. _You are a Black, Blacks are capable enough to never need help_.

But this is under such desperate circumstances, another voice, sounding a little too much like Andromeda's, argued. _You have to save yourself. Self-preservation was always the key Bellatrix, use it._

She decided to go with Andy on this one. After all, her sister _was_ frighteningly convincing.

So, Bellatrix sought help. Help. Yes, she, the arrogant, snobbish Bellatrix Black admits she _needs_ help.

As she walked, or rather limped, she kept one wide-eye open for a small cottage of such.

She, at last, reached the opening fold of the forest. The forest was like a map, she decided. If she put the forest in front of her, she would find a whole map, paths marked by blood from two species. That was the key, the trail that conveys blood was a dangerous path, and that was the part of the forest that was mentally crossed out by Bellatrix. The outskirts were the piece that was folded on her map, it was marked as safe, the beginning. The beginning, so now there was only the end to find, but she doubted whether she will ever get the chance to mark it. And, she also needed to acknowledge the home of the gamekeeper on her map.

And, well, there it was, a lonely looking cottage that might be her only way to Hogwarts. She pondered the idea again and decided that it did have a few cons which DID outnumber her pros by comparison. But, for now, she was going to be like a Gryffindor and take the dare. Gryffindor, she shuddered at the thought of her ever being a _Gryffindor._

She then thought of how she looked at the moment, she really was a mess. Her hair was messy and disheveled with little pieces of twig up and around her many curls, and a new bruise was faintly bleeding on her cheek. She moaned. Oh, what would people think of her? Young ladies must look perfect at all the right moments , specifically when in company of others, came her mother's words. If her mother only saw her, she would have a heart attack, waking up? Unlikely.

She waddled up to the huge door of the small cabin and knocked twice. When receiving no answer she thought the gamekeeper might be at the Hogwarts feast, so she knocked again. She sighed when she didn't get an answer the third time.

She turned away from the door, thinking about what to do now. Just then, the ridiculously large door, opened violently. Bellatrix fell, having been knocked down by the force in which the door opened. This really was _not_ her day. Bellatrix forced herself up and brushed of the soot from her robes.

"Who's there?" Came a deep, hoarse voice from the inside.

Out stepped a bearded men, so incredibly vast he was, Bellatrix gasped as she thought of what he might be. A giant, was her first thought, she had heard a lot about giants but decided that he was much too small to be one. A big oaf, she would stick with, it scared her how often Master Riddle was right.

The big oaf, no, she then agreed that she would not call him that. If she were to ask help from the gamekeeper, politeness was necessary.

She laughed nervously as the man frantically scanned the forest.

"Right here, sir," she directed politely, standing on tiptoe.

The gamekeeper's gaze found the girl and he was evidently very shocked. He stumbled backwards apparently flabbergasted at the thought of a student coming to visit him at the time.

"What yeh doin' here?" he asked or rather growled.

Bellatrix, having not been pleased by the unfriendly greeting, said "I am was going to go back to Hogwarts but, you see, I sort of wandered a bit and got lost from the group of first years."

"Wandered? Yer not supposed to be wanderin' all alone, especially in the Forbidden Forest. That's out-of-bounds yeh know," he snapped.

Bellatrix inwardly groaned, she knew she was going to be bombarded with questions, but she had hoped she can tread carefully around the subject without really bumping into it. "I know that now after a bit of, ah, experience. But I was wondering if you could help me get back. To Hogwarts, that is," she hastily added.

"I can get yeh back, alrigh'," he said running a hand through his messy hair. "But just come in for now."

Bellatrix smiled gratefully and stumbled into the cottage. Cluttered, was her first thought when entering the home.

Having noticed her strange way of moving, the gamekeeper peered at her suspiciously before saying "Yer hurt."

Bellatrix groaned, this time loud enough for the huge man to her. "it's nothing really, just tripped on some branches."

The gamekeeper sighed, "Let me see."

"It really is nothing-"

"Was it a wolf?" he cut in.

She stared at him blankly, how did he know?

Bellatrix exhaled the tight breath she was holding. She knew she might as well tell him now, she couldn't hide it for any longer.

"Yes."

"Thought so. I think I migh' have a potion in here for that," he said looking through a small cabinet. "Aha, here it is." He held up a small vial containing a saphire fluid.

"Alrigh' then. You shouln't have been wanderin' alone. It's dangerous. Especially now when wolves are up and around," he explained. It wasn't scolding, like her mother would do, no, he really was just explaining, for that Bellatrix was thankful.

"I like yer sense of adventure, What's yer name?" He asked while pushing up her dress slightly to be able to dab a bit of the potion on her wound.

"Bellatrix Black," she responded through gritted teeth, for the potion was burning badly.

"Yours?" she prompted.

"Rubeus Hagrid, " he told her. "Ah, this is a bad woun', you will have to got to Poppy, then. She'll fix yeh up well."

Bellatrix found that her leg hurt much less than before. It might even be fit for her to walk on.

Bellatrix sat in a comfortable silence as Hagrid applied more potion to the wound, she wanted the silence to last, but, it seems Hagrid was one to be conversational:

"So, one of the Blacks, eh? No worries, yeh look like yeh might break a few family rules ," Hagrid said with a knowing smile.

"What do you mean?" she questioned confused.

"I mean, a firs' year daring enough to go see the Forbidden Forest at arrival? How brave, seems very Gryffindor, don't yeh think?"

Bellatrix didn't like the knowing emphasis he had put on Gryffindor. "I really think I should be going now," she instead said, wanting to avoid awkward questions that well leave her in doubt of herself.

"Alrigh'." he said looking very disappointed. " Yeh know, it isn't wrong to not always follow yer parents' ways, it's nice to get to think for yerself here and there," Hagrid advised. "And you do might want to consider being a Gryffindor."

"Alrigh', let's get on then," he finally said, leading the way to the door.

Before opening the front door, Hagrid turned to Bellatrix "Wait, yer mean you didn't go with the firs' years on the ride across the lake?"

"No," she said truthfully.

"But it's importan'. I make sure every firs' year gets to have a ride, I do it every year," he looked awfully disappointed before brightening up again. "Or I can just take yeh righ' now."

"W-what?' Bellatrix stuttered, baffled. "But I'll miss the Sorting,' she said exasperatedly.

"No worries. I'm sure they haven' finished yet. Even if they have, Dumbledore wouldn't mind making a few exceptions, I will just tell him," he said.

Bellatrix groaned, this man was clearly out of his mind, "Then, I would get in trouble."

"I'm sure he will let you slip," he assured.

Bellatrix sighed impatiently, knowing their was no way out of it. "Fine, just fine."

Hagrid led the way across the multiple paths and cuts. After a moment of Bellatrix scurrying to keep after Hagrid's long strides, they had finally arrived.

Hagrid grabbed two boats, sitting in one and gesturing for her to sit in the other.

Bellatrix let out a long sigh and did as told. This was going to be a long year.

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**a/n: Ok, so special thanks to all who reviewed, I just LOVE reviews. And yes, if you have gotten this far I know what you all are thinking. ****_This is so not Bellatrix_****. Well, remember that she is still only 11 years old very unlike her 40- year old self we know her as. But she does begin to change and you will notice that through out this fanfiction. So she might be angry about a death of an animal now, but later on she will not even care for the lives of other humans. And we see she has different views about death, but that will slowly become of nothing. All of that change with the help of none other than Lord Voldemort/Tom Riddle. Please note that this fanfiction will follow Bellatrix throughout her life so it might reach a good 33-52 chapters. ****Like it so far? Leave a review!**** :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the wait, I usually don't procrastinate. Or rather 6th grade has beating me brutally, offering no mercy whatsoever. Would anyone be so kind as to explain Jupiter's moons' positions to me? I mean, seriously Earth has a good thing going, one moon makes everything seem so straightforward. But, no, teachers unfortunately sprouted devil horns over the summer. Enough of my complaining, here's your chapter my wonderful readers, sorry for its bluntness.**

**This is J.K Rowling's sandbox, I'm only playing in it. **

* * *

_"Oh, heart! Oh, blood that freezes, blood that burns!  
Earth's returns  
For whole centuries of folly, noise and sin!  
Shut them in,  
With their triumphs and their glories and the rest!  
Love is best." -Robert Browning (__**Author Reference to Quote: "Love is best, or maybe not.)**_

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Chapter 4: Love-Amparo

"And do try to be careful from now on..." came the nurse's voice as she applied a bit of Pain-Easing potion to the girl's wound.

"I'll try," Bellatrix assured, happily pointing out the loop-hole in the woman's words.

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "I am not kidding, Miss Black. You do know that this might as well be a record of yours. Never in my days, have I seen someone to show up in the Hospital Wing, this early on."

Bellatrix didn't respond, she was too happy to argue with the older woman. Much too happy.

Pomfrey yawned widely, seemingly pleased with her healing as she peered over the gash.

Grudgingly, Bellatrix could not deny that the woman did a good job. The wound was no longer bleeding, and newly-grown skin shed the once exposed cut. Only a faint bruise was left, even that was barely there to acknowledge. She felt, _better_. More than she would give Madam Pomfrey credit for.

Bellatrix hopped of off the small, berth of such. She tested her legs by easily pacing around the outline of the Wing. Yes, Pomfrey's healing was effective.

Though, she only went as far as to forget her manners:

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

"Very well," the nurse nodded her head lightly, her amber eyes glowing with fatigueness. "And who will be taking you to your common room? Certainly Filch wouldn't want a student wandering alone, especially past curfew."

"I'm sure the Bloody Baron won't mind." Bellatrix told her undoubtedly.

"All is good then?" Bellatrix nodded as the woman yawned again. "Goodnight, Miss Black."

"Goodnight," Bellatrix slowly crept out of the Hospital Wing, only to be met by a silvery wisp of the Slytherin ghost.

The ghost drifted across Hogwarts' dimly lit corridors, stopping to stoop his tall facade now and then, with Bellatrix scampering behind him.

Bellatrix was smiling so much, she thought her face would break. A Black. None but Slytherin. So much for the great oaf who mad her skeptic of her loyalties to the Black family and Slytherin house. Even the notorious Sorting Hat found no will to hesitate when choosing a house for her. In fact, its precise words were _"A Black? Hmm. No excitement her, I see. Ambiguous, insidious, the stereotypical pure-blood even. Well, I was hoping for a bit of hysteria or drama. But..."_ The Sorting Hat rambled on before ultimately howling for the universe to know..._"SLYTHERIN!"_ And Bellatrix Black had proudly claimed her place at the Slytherin table. But Bellatrix wasn't that ignorant; she had saw Hagrid's objecting and rather dumbfounded expression and had shot him a look, not of sympathy, but rather a look that said 'You-shouldn't-have-gotten-your-hopes-up-when-you- knew-you-were-going-to-get-let-down' look, but he had already left. But Bellatrix was defiant, another advantage of being in Slytherin is that you don't have big goons like Hagrid all up in your case. Honestly, Bellatrix was happy to have got rid of the idiot. They had barely made it to The Sorting on time because of his need to take her on an anything-but-exciting boat ride across the stupid Lake. They had arrived when McGonnagal was already listing the Z's causing Bellatrix to wait until the very end to be Sorted.

But as to now: Bellatrix turned her gaze consistently, examining her now-to-be home.

She couldn't oppose to the opinion being of the place was quite impressive, because it was.

Tall suits of silver armor were lined among the walls. That, Bellatrix stopped for a bit to inspect. A glistening sword deemed in the torch-light, with the knight resting a firm grip on the handle. Master Riddle has spoken of magic in which are used to control things that aren't already of being, but she doubted that someone would have the audacity and dauntlessness to create an army, or something, from them. _But_, one swing with a sword, and someone could be cut open. Now, the idea of someone using them as an army, didn't seem so bad. She wondered why the Founders even put them here, unless they wanted someone to follow their trail of ideas and use them as an army. _Wow, the Founders _were _daft,_ Bellatrix thought.

Bellatrix gently put her hand to the breastplate of the armor. It was thick, layered spectacularly. Fit enough for battle.

Bellatrix exhaled deeply and slapped her forehead. She really was too curious for her own good.

She finally managed to catch up with the Hogwarts' ghost who was inspecting a coral colored wall located right behind what Bellatrix knew to be the Hogwarts' cellars. Bellatrix wanted to ask the ghost what he was doing and that they should really be getting to the common room, then came the ghost's throaty voice:

"Touch this wall."

"Why?" Bellatrix inquired stubbornly, she wasn't going to touch some wall. It was probably a deceiving joke of the Hogwarts' ghost. Master Riddle always told of them to be sly.

"Just touch it," the Bloody Baron snapped wearily. "I cannot. See?" The ghost made a point by attempting to touch the wall, but was absorbed into the barrier until only his wrist was visible.

Bellatrix reluctantly adjusted her hand upon the hard surface waiting for the ghost to announce it as a joke that she oh-so stupidly fell for her, but no, he looked deadly serious. _Deadly: _OK, not the best way to describe a ghost.

She found that the wall was actually quite damp. Bellatrix wondered why it would be of such. Unless... Bellatrix gasped as an idea arose. This was very wall she had passed while on the boat ride with Hagrid. It was the stopping point; as far as the boat could go. The wall was currently curving around the sideline of the lake causing the narrow edge right down the dim-lit corridor. Then, the surface's wetness should be caused by the water vapor and humidity of the lake.

Damp with _condensation, _it was.

"How does it feel?" The Bloody Baron demanded rather irritatedly.

"Damp," Bellatrix stated wondering where this was going to.

"Assuredly?"

"_Yes_," she flared at the quite annoying being. No, _soul,_ Bellatrix had to stress in her head.

"_'Ne puero gladium,'_" the ghost whispered softly to the wall earning Bellatrix's recognition of a psychopathic. What was he doing_ talking to a wall_?

"I shall be leaving now, good night." The ghost fled a few meters away from Bellatrix, retreating.

"Wha-," Bellatrix stared dicernibly at him, rather agitated. Who does he think he is? Leading her on like that, he was supposed to get her to the common room.

"Bu-wha-," she gestured helplessly at the wall unseeing of how it just slid open.

"Turn around," the Bloody Baron growled through gritted teeth.

Bellatrix did so, but rather skeptically. She turned around and saw that the wall had just disappeared. She was confused but then turned her gaze to the other side of the wall and saw it had actually moved aside, accelerated so that instead of the one wall, layered on top of it was the piece that should have been the opening.

_Duh_, Bellatrix thought angrily. how could she haven't known. It's obviously the Slytherin entrance. Master Riddle hadn't directly stated were the Slytherin common room was, but rather hinted.

"Good night," and with that the ghost drifted off and soon became nothingness down the barely lit corridor.

Bellatrix pushed open the entrance, stumbling in and landing roughly on her back. She cursed in frustration as she got up and examined the common room.

Speechless. Tongue-tied. _Thunderstruck. _

She practically glowed with awe.

The Slytherin Common Room had an innumerable of amount aspects to it;

Along the side walls were splendid low-back chaise lounges, with a thick black integument clasped almost forcefully around the the seat. Silver interweaves the outline of the chair. The atmosphere was grand yet awfully cold too. Bellatrix suspected it was from the the window in the center of the fireplace, that emitted a greenish glow. Bellatrix's jaw dropped as the Giant-Squid whiffled by. Decorative skulls embroided the surfaces and fireplace, darkening the already tense mood. But Bellatrix wasn't ignorant as to not also acknowledge the fireplace. It was quite a view itself. It was much larger than the Black family fireplace by a considerable value. Lined obliquely were five serpent craniums, intricacy enhanced. At first, Bellatrix thought them to be fake but as she walked up to it and scrutinized it closely she found it was actually not. The pterodactyl, maxillary, parietal were all in the correct positions and made to be in a way that no one can imitate. Bellatrix had studied animal anatomy from the long hours in the Black library, devoted to just that. In the most delicate manner she could muster, Bellatrix picked up the fascinating skull and turned it in every direction, examining it with much curiosity.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you," a deep, devious, and calculating voice broke through the thunder stricken silence in which was placed upon Bellatrix.

Bellatrix almost dropped the cranium, then, thankfully, she managed to catch it in mid-air, and with trembling hands she placed it in its previous position.

"Wh-who's there," Bellatrix grabbed her wand from her robe pocket and gripped it shakily. Bellatrix was, instinctively, preparing for the worst. From her day's events, it was hard to hope for anything more than that. She kept one-wide eye open for a silhouette of anything that might be lurking.

The voice chuckled jovially. "My, youngest, curiosity was never a good thing. And I judge solely from experience. But what you have there, curiosity with caution, my, that's the best combination one can have."

As the man spoke (she was sure it was male), Bellatrix followed the voice and a large portrait proved worthy of her attention. Her gaze deviated for a moment to the rather captivating large window that enhanced the lake's contents, but her gaze immediately flickered back to the portrait. The image was of a bearded old man, lazily holding a red book that he clearly showed no interest in. His eyes flushed with astuteness, in such a way that seemed as though the book he was holding had taught him everything in the world. But his expression seemed to argue with the former, apparent misconception, for his facial character seemed to show that the elderly man wanted to know everything in the world, but the book had taught him nothing.

"You scared me, you _old man_!" Bellatrix cried indignantly, breathing rapidly from the sudden shock.

The portrait looked sharply at her, evidently provoked by Bellatrix's lack of suavity with her choice of words. "Old man? _Old man! _Ha! Oh, how you would feel if you only knew the story behind this portrait! You will be regretting it! And one is to be anything but fond of regret."

"_Regret_?" Bellatrix snorted derisively. "I could care so much less about your so-called _regret_! I, Bellatrix Black will _never_ regret!" She went back to her examination of the serpent cranium. "It's useless," she added in a low voice. But in spite of appearance, Bellatrix knew that there was no such thing as a life without regrets, but what could regretting bring? Even if their was a point in her life in which she would regret something, she wouldn't consider it a regret. No, it would be a _lesson learned_.

She sighed, finding no use in further inspection in the skull. She turned around, only to find the portrait of the old man regarding her with an odd expression.

"A Black, you say," the portrait catechized.

Bellatrix let out an annoyed breath. She really was tired of everyone hanging on to her surname. "Yes, _a Black._"

"I've met your father, Bellatrix. Your mother also. Now, in all honesty, they were never the best company. So _ignorant_ they were. Found everything below them."

Bellatrix practically fumed. What did he think of himself? Insulting her parents like that.

"Some may call it innocence," the old man resumed. "You know, being unknowledgeable of everything and everyone. But, the negative connotation, comes with. _Being so birdbrained to the point you think no one can compete to your standards._ But that isn't how humanity works, young dear. Every person should be appreciated. And, for what they _are_, not for what they _could be_."

The portrait spoke in a tone of anguish and distress. His words carried omniscience and much assurance, that, all-in-all, was worthy of Albus Dumbledore himself. Bellatrix didn't know what to make out of his words. She debated something much more complex than an eleven year old should be debating. His words and belief seemed to oppose to what her parents have taught her. She didn't know what to think. Her father had actually once said _Experience is the best teacher. _The man looked elderly enough to have been speaking from experience, and the way he spoke, oh, it seemed as if he had witnessed the whole world's misery and it was implemented it into his life. But Bellatrix wasn't just going to believe anything this man told her. She had just met him for Merlin's sake.

Bellatrix scowled angrily at the portrait, "But,_ how-_"

"_Think,_ Bellatrix," the man interrupted her impatiently."I have met many, _many_ students just like you. Have I convinced any of them? Not really. That is why my last wish as Headmaster was to be placed here. All I ask of you is to take my words into mind. And maybe even into _action_," he sighed gravely. "Just consider it, Bellatrix. It would do me some good to know you did at least that much.

"Now Coriolis Cobalt shall sleep again," the portrait declared before dozing off, leaving Bellatrix more perturbed than ever.

She contemplated the concept in anticipation. Bellatrix wasn't one to procrastinate. Master Riddle had said _Procrastination is one of the most common and deadliest of diseases and its toll on success and happiness is heavy. _So, she reflected upon the portrait's words. This really was too much too much to digest. All she needed was some sleep.

She sighed distressingly before slumping back in a large divan. Bellatrix almost drowsed off before trembling her slumber out fiercely, knowing this wasn't the place to rest.

She _longed_ to go back home. Yearning for something she knew she can't have at the time, made her nauseous. Their was something missing from Hogwarts, a certain _aura_ that home only had. She felt idle and nostalgic. Soon, Bellatrix was down the memory lane in wistfulness, melancholy, and reminiscence. She missed home. But comfort was only an extravagance, now_ forgotten_. And life spoke to her in a silent tongue, taunting her, angering her, asking her, _Where is your happiness? _Her truthful answer, _At home._

Bellatrix gasped as she remembered the letter she was supposed to write for Master Riddle. That awoke her alright. She searched frantically for her bag. _Where was it? _McGonnagal said she would send it here for her. _There!_ She found her bag near a secluded tapestry and dug through its contents hurriedly Bellatrix finally found an ink bottle and her Peacock feather quill which she held over the parchment, having an internal conflict about what to write.

She wanted to make it sound casual. And it definitely_ won't_ contain any of today's events.

She scribbled onto the parchment:

_Dear Master Riddle, _

_Sorry to trouble you at this lonely hour, but you told me to keep in touch, so I am. The best of news shall you be bothered by also: I was sorted into Slytherin! It's nice here and everything but I feel very homesick. How are you_ _though? I wonder how you are doing without me! Reply soon, I'll be waiting._

_Sincerely, _

_Your Warrior (Forever a Maiden.)_

Bellatrix inserted the letter and sealed the Envelope with her tongue. Only there was one problem, _How would she send it? _

Her owl, Leera, was in Hogwarts O_wlery. _And where _that_ was, was beyond her.

Looks like she needed to request more help from her rather advantageous friend: The Bloody Baron.

Bellatrix peered out of the common room down the shadowy therefore _obscured_ corridor and contemplated he idea again. Seemingly, it was the idea was reasonable. But, after all, Bellatrix could only ever say _seemingly._ Because it seemed of such, but Bellatrix was still doubtful.

True, the Bloody Baron hadn't been the most enthusiastic one when escorting her to the Common Room, but he wouldn't mind doing her one more favor.

Right?

Bellatrix inhaled deeply and let out a long breath, overcoming her reluctance, because Bellatrix most definitely wouldn't wait until morning to deliver the letter to Master Riddle. Again, she is not one to procrastinate.

She exited the common room unobtrusively, pondering the idea for the third time in about twelve minutes.

And what she saw almost made her faint.


End file.
